


the secret tomorrow will hold

by eversall



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Cop AU, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8534428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversall/pseuds/eversall
Summary: Jace’s hair is slicked back, his composure is perfect, and he looks every inch the FBI agent he apparently really is, kitted out in his bulletproof vest with his gun in his hand as he gestures with the other at some point on a map. Simon wants to cling to him and never let go, and he also wants to shatter a vase over Jace’s head or something equally dramatic..Simon falls onto his new neighbor, falls in love, and falls into the middle of an undercover FBI operation. Not necessarily in that order.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO IT IS I, NEW JIMON TRASH. this is not to say that i am not also saphael trash, just, that at this point, I am also obsessed with jimon. I'm rolling my eyes at myself right now. 
> 
> Credit for this work's inspiration goes to the amazingly talented [ downwrlder ](http://downwrlder.tumblr.com/) whose absolutely lovely [ gifset ](http://downwrlder.tumblr.com/post/152160030859/shadowhuntersau-nypd-officer-jace-lightwood-was) led to this. HER SHADOWHUNTER AUS ARE SO GOOD I JUST CAN'T BELIEVE IT.
> 
> title taken from perfect strangers by jonas blue

_week one_

Simon’s been living in Valentine Morgenstern’s building for three weeks when trouble finds him in the form of what feels like a solid _wall_ careening into him hard enough for him to spill his iced coffee everywhere – or well, not everywhere, but mostly on himself. He groans and watches miserably as the liquid turns his shirt sticky and transparent, putting his body out there for all and sundry to see.

“Hi.” A pleasant voice says, and he looks up to find mesmerizing blue and brown eyes staring at him. “I’m so sorry about that. I’m Jonathan, I just moved into the building.” Simon makes a quiet little pained noise because _Jonathan_ is built like a fucking Calvin Klein model and it’s just his luck, really, that Simon would run into him like this.

“Simon.” He responds, trying not to look at the way Jace’s hair falls softly into his eyes. “Welcome to the building.”

“And you live…?” Jonathan asks, trailing off.

“First floor.” Simon says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Um, I just moved in recently too, actually, I’m subleasing from Starkweather, the dude that used to – anyway, you don’t care, but – basically, I have a master set of keys! If you need anything, just let me know, Starkweather gave me strict instructions on taking care of everyone.”

“So you’re like – the landlord.” Jonathan eyes him speculatively, and Simon flushes, wishing that he wasn’t wearing a Captain America T-shirt soaked through with unfortunately overpriced coffee.

“Sorta?” Simon hedges. “Uh, Starkweather isn’t really supposed to have subleasers, so don’t tell Morgenstern. You know, the owner.”

“I know who Morgenstern is.” Jonathan says, a weird look crossing his features as he pushes his hair out of his face. Simon’s mouth twists as he imagines tugging at the blonde locks, and _no_ , he needs to shut that train of thought down right now. “I won’t tell. The coffee – “

“I’m gonna – go change. Yes.” Simon says determinedly. “I’ll…see you around?”

“Yeah.” Jonathan says, and his smile is _gorgeous_ , oh God, Simon’s so screwed. “Later, dude.”

“See later – I mean – see _you_ – ugh. Bye.” Simon flounders, slapping  a hand across his face, and Jonathan laughs, a beautiful, beautiful sound, before moving off, taking the stairs two at a time. It occurs to Simon, standing there with his mailbox still open in front of him and most of a cup of coffee gracing his torso, that he doesn’t know where Jonathan lives or anything, and also – Jonathan spilled a cup of fucking coffee all over him, Simon should have _at least_ gotten repayment for that.

Oh, Simon is so screwed, there’s a hot tenant in his building that makes him forget all about his _coffee_.

“Clary will know what to do.” Simon hisses to himself, slamming his mailbox shut and striding down the hall before he doubles back, opening his mailbox again and actually _getting_ his mail out. He strides back to his apartment, mentally cataloguing all the ways in which his life is a mess so he can accurately lay it out for his best friend.

.

“So there’s a hot neighbor – “ Clary begins.

“Tenant.” Simon says, shaking his head. “I moved, remember?” Clary raises an eyebrow.

“How could I forget, you complained for weeks about me missing it.” She says flatly, taking a pointed sip of her latte. Simon grins.

“It was a rite of passage, and you didn’t come to commemorate it.”  
“I had an art emergency! Besides, I bought you pizza after.”

“Pizza does always make things better.” Simon says, raising his cup to toast to pizza.

“Amen to that.” Clary laughs. “So, hot tenant?”

“His name is Jonathan, his eyes are two different colors, he’s the hottest thing to grace this planet, ever – “ Simon says dreamily. “Kind of an ass, though, he knocked into me and made me spill my coffee all over him.”

“Mm, and you didn’t go ballistic on him? You must really like him.” Clary says.

“I barely know him; he’s just nice to look at.” Simon says dismissively before he glances at his watch and swears. “Shit, I gotta get to work or Raphael’s gonna kill me.”

“How’s the advisor position working out for you?” Clary asks sweetly. Simon groans as he gulps the last of his coffee down.

“Don’t remind me.” He slams his cup down. “Being promoted from lowly accountant to second-in-command-by-name-only is _not_ fun. He just wants to make sure I don’t go rogue on him and implicate him for Camille’s fraud.”

“But he didn’t know she was doing that.” Clary points out, looking confused.

“Yeah, _no one_ knew she was taking our investors for a wild ride through offshore-tax-evasion land, aka flat out stealing. But Raphael has this weird Catholic guilt thing that makes him think he’s just as responsible for not noticing it.” Simon says, rolling his eyes. “It just means extra work for me, but hey, the paycheck is nice and fat and let me move.”

“And you even got a hot tenant out of the deal.” Clary says approvingly.

.

At around eleven-thirty at night, a knock sounds on Simon’s door and he pauses from where he’s working through correcting a budget report – _God_ , Camille screwed them over badly, they’re all still scrambling to right all the wrong she did to the company – and looks up blearily, frowning at the clock on his wall.

“Fucking – “ he swears, getting up and looking around for something to put on and look respectable in. He gives up and decides that whoever’s on the other side of the door is going to have to settle for him in his sweatpants and ratty old tank.

“Hi.” Jonathan says, flashing a charming smile from where he’s standing _shirtless_ on Simon’s doorstep, a pair of pajama pants slung low around his lips. Simon stares, nonplussed.

“Hi?” he responds.

“I need eggs.” Jonathan continues.

“Uh huh.” Simon says, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

“So?” Jonathan asks expectantly.

“So what?” Simon asks, tilting his head. In the hallway light, Jonathan’s eyes look like they fucking _sparkle_.

“So…are you going to give me eggs?” He asks, his grin turning wicked. Simon frowns.

“I’m not a delivery service.” Simon says slowly. Normally he’d try a little harder to be charming to this clearly attractive man, but – it’s been a _really_ long day at work, and he’s _so_ tired, and this hot tenant is bugging him because Jonathan is probably straight and this is gonna be another one of those hopeless things.

“You said if I needed anything, I could come to you.” Jonathan points out, looking far too smug for his own good.

“Yeah,” Simon emphasizes, “for _maintenance_. Good night.” He slams the door in Jonathan’s shocked face, his lips parting in shock at Simon’s actions. Simon groans as Jonathan pounds on the door.

“I’m not leaving you alone until you give me eggs!” Jonathan hollers through the door, and Simon briefly entertains the thought of writing Jonathan up. He _could_. Hodge gave him that power when he gave him the master set of keys.

But Simon catches himself thinking about Jonathan’s warm smile and his nice eyes and he sighs before he turns around and opens the door again. Whatever Jonathan sees on Simon’s face must give him pause, because he frowns before he starts speaking.

“You look terrible.” He says, and Simon glares at him.

“Thanks.” He responds as sarcastically as he can manage, which, with how sleep-deprived he is, is a _lot_.

“No, I mean – I’m sorry, you seemed like the type of person to be up late, but I shouldn’t bother you. You look like you need the sleep.”

“Come in and get your eggs,” Simon says, slightly mollified, “because I do need my sleep but it’s okay, I can still supply you with food. What do you need eggs for at this time of the night anyway?”

“I’m making a cake.” Jonathan says, sweeping his eyes across the walls of Simon’s apartment as he steps inside.

“Midnight baking, hm.” Simon says, trying desperately not to judge him too hard for it.

“It calms me.” Jonathan says defensively as Simon opens his fridge and takes out a carton of eggs.

“Hey,” Simon laughs as he hands the eggs over, “no judgement here. I can’t bake anyways, so.” Jonathan takes the carton and looks at Simon, smirking.

“Well, not everyone can be as talented as I am.” Jonathan says, pride dripping from his every word, and Simon rolls his eyes. “Alright, I’m going, I’m going.” He passes by the bowl on Simon’s counter with his keys, wallet, and watch in it and pauses.

“Yeah, my friend made that.” Simon says, gesturing to the gorgeous ceramic red pinch pot. “One of the first things she ever made, way back in the beginning of high school. Pretty cute, huh?”

“Yeah, and convenient. Nice place to keep track of your keys. Are those all the keys you have?” Jonathan asks, his eyes curious.

“Yeah, it is – oh, I have the master set! But I don’t keep that with the rest of my keys, I have that by my bed in case of emergency.” Simon says, leaning against the wall, and there’s a flicker of something in Jonathan’s eyes as he considers the words.

“Smart.” He says. “Thanks again, Simon, for the eggs.”

“No problem, dude.” Simon responds, mentally congratulating himself for not acting like a complete idiot this time.

 

_week two_

Two weeks later, Simon’s at his weekly gig at Maureen’s coffee shop when he sees Jonathan, and he’s so surprised by his appearance that he skips the next line he was supposed to sing and then has to channel all his concentration into playing it off as an artistic choice and not his own idiocy. The rest of the set goes by smoothly, and as soon as he finished getting his things off the stage Clary digs her nails into his arm and drags him off.

“Is _that_ your hot tenant?” she hisses, jerking her head to where Jonathan’s lounging against the wall with a coffee cup in his hand, sweeping his eyes around the room and looking supremely amused.

“ _Yes_.” Simon hisses back. “Before you ask, Fray, _no_ , I didn’t invite him and I don’t know how he got here!”

“Well, he clearly knows a lot about _you_.” Clary says, smirking slowly. “I was talking to him – “

“What?”

“ – and he asked if we were dating – “

“ _What_?”

“ – and then he asked if you were seeing anybody!” Clary finished, her voice rising on a squeal at the end as she beams at Simon. Simon flushes pink, about to start arguing with her, when she glances behind Simon and giggles.

“He’s also coming over here. Go get ‘em tiger, I’m gonna load your stuff into the van. Take your time!” She winks at Simon before disappearing, and he’s frowning, about to go after her, when a hand lands on his shoulder and he jerks back as he turns around.

“Calm down.” Jonathan says, laughing. “It’s just me.”

“Well, yeah, okay.” Simon says, pushing his glasses up and huffing. “But the question is, _why_?”

“Why…?” Jonathan trails off, arching an eyebrow.

“Why are you _here_?” Simon asks, exasperated. “Don’t tell me you just _happened_ to be in the neighborhood.”

“I could have been.” Jace says, shrugging. “But actually, I saw your flyer on the bulletin board in the laundry room for your show, so, I came.”

“Nobody reads those.” Simon rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re actually committed enough to notice the _bulletin_ board.”

“I’m observant, it’s what I do.” Jonathan says, his face looking pained for a moment before he smirks again, back to his arrogant self. “So, you’re pretty good.”

“Thanks.” Simon laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, you liked the set?”

“Yeah, you’re really good on the guitar.” Jonathan takes a long sip of his coffee and Simon watches the way his throat works. There’s a hint of a tattoo peeking out from under the collar of his shirt, and Simon desperately wants to find out what it is.

“Need a ride home?” Simon blurts out, desperate to focus on _anything_ other than the slender lines of Jonathan’s neck.

“Sure.” Jonathan says, and that’s how Simon finds himself driving back to the apartment with an amused Clary in the front and a smirking Jonathan in the back.

“So what do you do, Jonathan?” Clary asks casually, and Simon wants to bang his head against the wheel at Clary’s prying.

“I’m a personal trainer.” Jonathan replies, and Simon bites his lip as he thinks about Jonathan showing up on his doorstep shirtless. _Yeah_ , that he can believe. The guy’s _ripped_.

“There’s a gym in the basement.” Simon says instead. “Nobody uses it so I usually keep it locked, but I can unlock it for you if you need to use it.”  
“That would be great, Simon, thank you.” Jonathan says, and Simon glances back to see he looks _upset_.

“Are you sure it’s great? You look like you don’t think it’s that great.”

“No, no, I just remembered a problem one of my clients had today, I haven’t figured out a routine for him yet.” Jonathan smiles reassuringly, and Simon drops it.

“What’s your clientele like?” Clary asks.

“Uh, mostly people who work in entertainment, they like to look good.” Jonathan replies.

“ _Simon_ works in entertainment.” Clary says gleefully.

“No, I don’t work in entertainment, I work _with_ entertainment. I’m part of a company that manages talent investment, management, and marketing.” Simon hastens to correct Clary.

“Doesn’t matter, you don’t need my help to look good.” Jonathan says casually, and Simon has a coughing fit suddenly into the ensuing silence.

“Well.” Clary says brightly after a few minutes. “On that note, this is me, thanks for the ride Simon!” Simon screeches to a stop in front of her house and watches dazedly as she cheerily waves at them and leaves.

“I’m sorry if I was out of line.” Jonathan says quietly as Simon begins to drive back to their building.

“No, you weren’t, I just – I thought you were straight.” Simon says, his cheeks hot as he blushes. “And, uh, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“Oh. In that case, I stand by it.” Jonathan says, a smug note creeping into his voice, and Simon shakes his head as he pulls into the garage of the building.

“Do you maybe want to get dinner tomorrow night?” Simon asks in a rush as he kills the engine. He twists around to look at Jonathan in the back seat.

“I would love to.” Jonathan replies, his eyes bright as he stares back at Simon.

.

“Oh, _wow_.” Jonathan is wheezing the next night, tears streaming out of his eyes. Simon has his fork halfway to his mouth, staring in shock at the man sitting across from him.

“Seriously?” he asks.

“Seriously.” Jonathan replies, gulping down water. “My spice tolerance is _very_ low.”

“Try abysmal.” Simon shakes his head. “How are we going to date if you can’t appreciate Indian food? Or _any_ spicy food?”

“I can appreciate it.” Jonathan says stubbornly, picking his fork up.

“You might want to order something else.” Simon says, amused.

“I’m going to prove to you I can eat this so you’ll go on another date with me.” Jonathan stuffs another forkful of rice in his mouth, and Simon throws his head back laughing.

“ _Jonathan_.” He says, putting his hand over Jonathan’s , resting on the table. “I’ll go on another date with you; will you please order _anything_ other than the spiciest thing on the menu?”

“I can consider it.” Jonathan says, turning his hand over and interlacing his fingers with Simon’s as the corners of his lips twitch upward, like he can’t control his own smile.

.

 

_week three_

He hasn’t heard from Jace in almost a week when he gets a cryptic text that leads him to the roof-access stairs.

“What is this?” Simon asks, emerging onto the roof to see fairy lights strung up and a picnic basket set out.

“Picnic under the stars.” Jonathan says, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he rocks back and forth on his feet. “I’m told it’s what people do to be romantic.”

“Who told you, _Cosmo_? _Seventeen_?”

“Shut up or you don’t get any food.” Jonathan says defensively, and Simon grins.

“Bring it out, then.” He says, sitting cross-legged on the picnic basket, and Jonathan hesitates, raking his eyes over Simon’s form. “Jonathan. I like the date. Come sit?”

“Yeah.” Jonathan says, his voice strained and his smile bitter as he shakes his head. “I’m coming.”

“Can I ask you something?” Simon says, his chin in his hands as he watches Jonathan set out fruits and cheeses that look suspiciously well-arranged. “Why do you introduce yourself as Jonathan? Why not John?” Jonathan freezes.

“Uh.” He says eloquently.

“Shit, did I overstep? I’m sorry, my friend is always telling me I talk too much – “

“No!” Jonathan says forcefully, surprising both of them. “No, Simon, I just – sorry. I like how much you talk. You caught me off guard, is all. I just don’t like nicknames. “

“Well, I like your regular name just fine.” Simon winks exaggeratedly, and Jonathan rolls his eyes, back to his good mood.

.

They kiss for the first time when Simon is coming downstairs from taking a look at Raj’s maintenance request at nine in the morning and runs into Jonathan going out for a run. Jonathan’s got nothing but running shorts on, his hair is loose and falling all over his face, and he looks exhausted, like he just rolled out of bed. Simon is standing there in his pajama pants and T-shirt, opening his mouth to say good morning when Jonathan curls his hand in the front of Simon’s shirt and yanks him down, kissing him hard and fast. Simon parts his mouth instinctively as Jonathan’s other hand curls around the back of his neck, his fingers hot where they brush against Simon’s neck and his lips sure as they move against Simon’s. Simon lets out a little moan as he pulls Jonathan flush against him, his hands trailing over solid muscle as he drags his hand up Jonathan’s back.

They stay like that for what seems like forever, or at least until they’re caught by Sherry, the crotchety old lady whose apartment they’re making out in front of.

.

_week three_

“So, you and Jonathan are going strong.” Clary says delightedly as Simon groans and buries his head in his hands.

“He likes kittens and tries _so hard_ and is insanely witty. I’m done for.” Simon says gloomily. “He’s too perfect. He’s going to turn out to be like, a serial killer or something.”

“He’s not going to be a _serial_ _killer_.” Clary admonishes him. “I think it’s sweet, you two are so obviously gone on each other.”

“Yeah.” Simon says, smiling down at the table helplessly as he thinks about Jonathan. “Three weeks and he’s still not tired of me.”

.

_week four_

Jonathan spends the night four weeks into their relationship. He’s got Simon backed up against the front door of his apartment, and they’re both smiling as they kiss each other.

“Can’t wait to get to the bedroom?” Simon gasps out, laughing as Jonathan trails kisses along his jaw.

“Mm, you’re too pretty.” Jonathan mumbles nonsensically as he snakes his hand up Simon’s shirt, scratching blunt nails down Simon’s abs. Simon shudders, his hand coming up to grip Jonathan’s hair, tugging it loose from its gel.

“Come _on_.” He says, and he doesn’t know what he’s asking for but Jonathan seems to know because he reaches down and grabs one of Simon’s thighs, wrapping Simon’s leg around his waist and murmuring “Jump.”

“Fuck.” Simon whimpers as he wraps his legs around Jonathan and Jonathan just _holds him up_ like he weighs nothing. The motion brushes their erections together, eliciting a groan from Jonathan that Simon swallows down in a kiss.

They do end up in the bedroom, eventually, where Jonathan fucks Simon so hard he blacks out a little when he comes.

“Shut up.” He says lazily to a smugly grinning Jonathan.

“I’m not saying anything.” The other man says, stretching out on his stomach and peering at Simon through his fringe.

“Fuck, you’re cute.” Simon whines, turning his head and tugging at Jonathan’s hair. Jonathan’s face softens, and he ducks his head, a pink flush spreading across his cheeks. “Aw, you’re embarrassed. You just fucked me, but you can’t handle me calling you cute?” He coos, trailing a thumb across Jonathan’s cheek.

“Shut up.” Jonathan grumbles, smiling despite himself.

.

“So,” Magnus says the next time they’re all out for lunch, “who’s the new man in your life?” Simon chokes on his sandwich while Raphael looks at him curiously.

“Where did even you hear about that?” Simon asks through his watering eyes.

“Oh, through the grapevine.” Magnus makes a dismissive gesture with his fingers.

“Was that grapevine Clary?” Raphael asks.

“Why does she tell you things?” Simon whines.

“So, tell us all about him.” Magnus leans forward gleefully. “Is he attractive? Does he like cats? Does he find your comic book obsession _charming_?”

“This is supposed to be a work lunch.” Raphael says, leaning back disdainfully and pulling out his phone.

“So you _weren’t_ about to text your boyfriend?” Simon asks, staring at Raphael pointedly. Raphael pauses, and then glares.

“I’m just expressing my _disbelief_ to Ragnor that anyone could stand you for long enough to _date_ you.” Raphael sniffs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m irresistible.” Simon scoffs.

.

_week five_

“Okay, hypothetical.” Simon says, his head in Jonathan’s lap. “If the zombie apocalypse happened -“

“Not this again.” Jonathan groans. “Why am I dating a nerd?” Simon snickers as he looks up at Jonathan.

“It’s just for my body, I know.” He says, and Jonathan rolls his eyes, putting his book aside and resting a warm hand on Simon’s stomach. They’re in Simon’s apartment, about to go to sleep, and Simon loves moments like these, where Jonathan looks so relaxed and at ease.

“If the zombie apocalypse happened, I would survive.” Jonathan says thoughtfully, running the fingers of his other hand through Simon’s hair. “My dad…was really big on the survival in the wilderness thing. He taught me a lot.” His voice is heavy, and Simon’s silent for a while.

“He wasn’t a bad father.” Jonathan blurts out after a few moments of silence. “Just – he was a bad man. They put me in foster care when I was ten.” Simon grasps Jonathan’s hand and squeezes it, trying to convey some form of assurance as Jonathan closes his eyes and slumps forward, his hair falling over his face.

“Sorry.” Jonathan says eventually. “I didn’t mean to be a downer.”

“Jonathan.” Simon murmurs, and he brings his other hand up to cradle Jonathan’s face. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Jonathan makes a quiet noise before he closes the distance and kisses Simon, soft and slow.

They fall asleep soon after that, with Simon curled into Jonathan’s warm body, Jonathan’s arm wrapped securely around him. Simon’s a heavy sleeper, but he still awakens about halfway through the night, groggy and disoriented.

“Go back to sleep, I’ll be back soon.” Jonathan whispers, and Simon doesn’t even bother opening his eyes, just trusts Jonathan and pulls the duvet closer, the jingle of keys the last thing he hears before he falls back asleep.

.

_week six_

They don’t usually spend the night in Jonathan’s apartment, so Simon looks around in interest as he drops his keys on Jonathan’s countertop.

“It’s so minimalistic, are you going for the monk aesthetic or something?” He exclaims, looking around at the walls for _anything_ even remotely decorative. Jonathan shrugs.

“Just haven’t gotten around to getting anything.” He says. “Movie? And don’t say _Star Wars_ again.”

“ _Harry Potter_?” Simon suggests brightly, and Jonathan groans. “Stop that, don’t act like you’re not totally hot for Draco Malfoy.”

“I’m _not_.” Jonathan says churlishly even as he brings out the box set of _Harry Potter_ he just _magically_ acquired when Simon mentioned how much he loved them. “I like Harry.”

“Oh my _God_.” Simon laughs as he throws himself onto the couch. “I’ve actually never heard anyone say that, it’s so weird.”

“What can I say, I have a soft spot for awkward nerds with glasses.” Jonathan says, turning to kiss Simon on the cheek.

.

“Stop.” Simon warns as Clary sighs dreamily.

“I can’t help it.” She says. “You two are too cute.”

“Love is in the air.” She singsongs, and Simon pauses to squint suspiciously at her.

“You’re breaking out in song, you think everything is cute, you’re overly invested in my relationship…you met someone!” Simon accuses. Clary shrugs guiltily, blushing red as she looks down and plays with a sugar packet.

“Well…” she drags out.

“Fray.” Simon says warningly, and she laughs.

“Her name is Izzy and she’s a forensic pathologist who works with Luke!” Clary says in a rush, and Simon whoops. “Simon, calm down, I don’t know if anything’s gonna happen!”

“Let me guess. She asked you out.” Simon crosses his arms and leans forward. “Spill, Clary, c’mon.”

“I asked her out.” Clary says, self-satisfied. “She said yes.”

“And?”

“And we’re going to that concert in the park series tomorrow night, and she’s amazingly smart, and she’s so hot she should be modelling.” Clary says in a besotted voice.

“Oh God, is this what I sound like when I talk about Jonathan?” Simon makes a face.

“Worse.” Clary says solemnly, pretending to gag.

.

_week seven_

They fight a lot, because Jonathan tends to be dismissive of Simon’s nerdy obsessions and Simon tends to treat Jonathan like a stereotypical dumb jock.

“You thought I couldn’t _read music_?” Jonathan seethes at him. “I play the fucking _piano_ , I _studied_ music before I left college.”

“Oh, like I was supposed to know that!” Simon snipes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jonathan says into the ensuing silence, a look of growing horror on his face.

“Just that I don’t know anything about you!” Simon throws his hands in the air. “Do you even fucking _want_ this?”

“ _Don’t_ talk to me about wanting this.” Jonathan says, suddenly right in Simon’s space as he glares. “Don’t _ever_ fucking assume I’m not serious about this.”

“You’re not exactly making a convincing case.” Simon holds his ground, a lump in his throat.

“Simon.” Jonathan says softly, the anger draining out of his body as he slumps. “You know me more of me than anyone else. I’ve never let anyone in like this.” His voice is low and heavy between them, and Simon feels his heart skip a beat.

“Okay.” Simon says, tentatively reaching a hand out, and Jonathan meets him halfway, surging towards Simon and kissing him fiercely. His hands come up to dig painfully into Simon’s biceps, and Simon moans as Jonathan propels him backward.

.

_week eight_

“Got you a coffee.” Jonathan says when Simon walks into his apartment, not looking up from where he’s playing videogames.

“You got a Wii!” Simon exclaims. “Is this because I told you to? _And_ you brought me a coffee, God, I love you.” He laughs, before he his laugh tapers off as he replays what he just said in his head. On screen, Jonathan dies a noisy death as they stare at each other, Jonathan’s eyes wide and his lips parted in shock.

“I – “ Jonathan says.

“Oh _shit_ , I’m sorry, I swear I wanted to be romantic about it – “

“Simon!” Jonathan cuts him off, throwing his controller aside and getting up to approach him. “Simon, I…love you too. I’m _crazy_ in love with you.

“Well that’s good.” Simon breathes out. Jonathan smiles at him, his grin wide, and Simon smiles back helplessly, laughing at the look of unabashed joy on his boyfriend’s face. “That’s fucking _amazing_.”

“You’re amazing.” Jonathan mumbles like he can’t help himself as he crosses the distance between them and pulls Simon in for a kiss.

.

_week nine_

Jonathan wakes up at odd hours of the night and leaves suddenly, always coming back soon enough that Simon doesn’t really notice anything wrong. One night, though, Simon wakes with a start and peers blearily into the dark to see a blurry outline of Jonathan sitting on the edge of the bed. He rolls over and fumbles for his glasses before he turns back.

“Hey.” He whispers into the quiet, Jonathan’s soft exhale the only indication that he’s heard him, “Everything okay?”

“If by everything you mean that – “ Jonathan says harshly before cutting himself off with a bitter laugh. “Forget it.”

“Jonathan?”

“ _Fuck_!” Jonathan says suddenly, loud in the night air, and then his shoulders are shaking. Simon climbs over to him and holds him. They stay like that for a long time before dropping off to sleep again.

.

_week ten_

“I’m worried about you.” Raphael says one day. Simon looks up and raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, I’m worried too, I think the last time I ate a vegetable was two weeks ago.” He says, looking away thoughtfully. “I should get Jonathan to cook.”

“No, your boyfriend is – why I’m worried about you.” Raphael says, rolling his eyes. “You don’t know anything about him.”

“I know plenty.” Simon argues feebly, though that’s not _true_. Jonathan’s mysterious past is something that Simon’s just learned to accept at this point.

“Simon.” Raphael says, a guilty tone in his voice. “You know how Ragnor’s bookstore is across from that really old theater?”

“Yeah.” Simon says, his heart sinking. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“Well, Ragnor’s seen him go into that theater every Tuesday afternoon for the past six weeks with a tall black-haired man.” Raphael says, not looking at Simon. “He didn’t tell me because he didn’t realize it was your Jonathan until you showed us that picture of you two last week.”

“That could be anything.” Simon protests weakly. He convers his face with his hands. “Fuck.”

“Just…ask him about it.” Raphael advises quietly.

.

Simon brings it up later that night.

“Hey, Jonathan, you know that bookstore on Kensington?” Simon says as they’re washing the dishes. It’s so domestic, and Jonathan’s in loose sweatpants and swaying slightly to the music they have playing, and Simon doesn’t want to _lose_ this.

“Mm, no I don’t think so.” Jonathan says absently, opening a cabinet and stowing a dish. “Why, do they sell some super ultra rare comic you need?” He teases gently, and Simon laughs despite the gravity of the situation.

“No, I just heard good things about it. We should go sometime, there’s an old theater across from it I heard was nice too.” He says casually, holding his breath to see if Jonathan will admit to anything.

“Never been near it.” Jonathan says, shrugging as he turns to meet Simon’s gaze. “Sure, we can go this weekend.” He kisses Simon on the forehead before heading to the bedroom, and Simon watches him leave, anger boiling low in his gut.

Is Jonathan _cheating_ on him? They’ve been together for almost three months, and he’s seemed so _committed_   - but then again, Simon thinks bitterly, slamming the dishwasher shut, it’s not like he knows anything about Jonathan’s life. He doesn’t know about his family, or anything about his job, or what his life is like outside of the time he spends with Simon.

When he gets to the bedroom, ready to confront Jonathan, he finds his boyfriend fast asleep already, an arm thrown across Simon’s spot and another curled under his chin. Jonathan looks so young and peaceful, his face softer and his hair fanning out across the pillow, and Simon can’t bring himself to wake him.

He falls asleep that night staring at Jonathan, his heart heavy and conflicted.

.

_Week eleven_

“I need to tell you something.” Clary says urgently as she runs up to Simon while he’s getting coffee. “Why didn’t you pick up your phone?”  
“It’s been dead all day.” Simon says in confusion as Clary tugs him away from the line and outside the shop. “Clary, what’s going on?”

“So I went to visit Izzy at work,” Clary says, shoving Simon into her car. He starts to protest, but she holds a tiny hand up. “Simon _trust me_.” Simon shuts up immediately.

“Okay, so. I went to visit Izzy at work. You know she’s a – “

“Forensic pathologist, yes, I’ve _met_ her.” Simon rolls his eyes.

“And because, you know, I’m dating Izzy and Luke’s my step-dad and everybody at the station likes me and trusts me  - “

“I know.” Simon says patiently.

“So when I went to visit her she took me to see Luke and he and Alaric and everyone on his squad were gearing up for some sort of raid, and they had FBI agents there too. Apparently they were storming some building with known ties to a big mafia boss, and they had an undercover agent at the scene.” Clary says, speeding through a red light. Simon yells a curse as she swerves hard, ignoring just about every traffic rule in existence as she drives like a maniac down the street. It’s a testament to the strength of their friendship that he doesn’t question Clary’s motives.

“And one of the agents was apparently her brother.” Clary continues, her voice high-pitched and frantic. “She introduced me to him and he was really tall and grumpy-looking, but he introduced himself as Alec Lightwood.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I said, hey Iz, don’t you have two more brothers, one younger and one just a little older? And she was like yeah, Jace and Max, and Alec made this annoyed sound and he hissed Izzy’s name and, and she looked back and was like ‘what, it’s not like I can’t say his _name_ ’. And I was like oh, Jace, what an interesting name. And Izzy said oh yeah it stands for Jonathan Christopher.”

“I swear to God, if this entire freak-out was because my boyfriend has the same name – “

“It’s not just that! So I said, oh yeah, Simon’s boyfriend is named Jonathan, what a coincidence. And Izzy and Alec both turned to me, and Izzy suddenly said Alec’s name really worriedly, and Alec slowly said ‘I know, he said the guy’s name was Simon, it’s a little strange.’ Then they asked me where you lived, and when I told them, they _flipped_.” She says, turning onto the road where Simon’s apartment building is. His heart is pounding like crazy, and he can feel the blood rushing to his ears as his mind jumps ten steps ahead.

“Clary,” he says, his voice strangled, “please don’t tell me – “ She pulls into a parking spot up the street and gestures at the cop cars surrounding Simon’s building.

“Jonathan isn’t who he said he was. His name is Jace Lightwood, and he’s an undercover FBI agent.” She says, her voice heavy. “I’m sorry.”

Simon’s hands scrabble at his seatbelt as he gets out of the car and slams the door shut, taking in the scene unfolding in front of him. There are wailing sirens and FBI agents swarming over the scene, along with NYPD. He can see Luke talking to someone, in uniform, and Simon’s closes his eyes briefly.

“Clary,” Simon says, shaking, “Can you get me in? Since you know Luke, and Izzy.”

“Yeah.” She says, her voice soothing as she links their arms together. “Are you gonna be okay? Should I punch him for you first?” He manages a weak laugh at that, shooting her a grateful smile. She smiles back and squeezes his arm as she strides up to the crime scene, confident.

“Luke!” she calls, cupping her hands around her mouth, and Luke turns around and spots them, making his way over.

“Simon,” he says as soon as he’s close enough to be heard, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize where you were living or I would have warned Jace.” He looks genuinely sorry, and Simon shakes his head.

“It’s not your fault.” He says, his mind racing to all the time he and Jonathan – _Jace_ – spent together, the breathless, quiet moments where he stared at Simon like he was the only thing that mattered.

Well. That, or Simon’s set of _master keys_ was the only thing that mattered.

“You want to talk to him?” Luke asks. “I can clear it for you.”

“Yeah.” Simon says. “I guess I have to find somewhere to live now, huh?” He chuckles weakly, and Luke gives him a sympathetic look.

“You’re going to be okay.” Luke promises, clapping Simon on the back before moving off. Simon stares unseeingly at the scene in front of him, evidence and people in handcuffs being led out. It’s hard to imagine that –

He doesn’t have to imagine it when Izzy comes up to them with a taller man behind her. They share the same nose and sharp eyes, and Simon guesses this is Alec.

“Simon.” Izzy says when she reaches them. “I am so sorry.”

“Everyone’s saying that.” Simon laughs, a bit maniacally. “You’re not the one who should be sorry.”

“For what it’s worth,” Alec speaks up, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, “I’m pretty sure he’s sorry too.”

“Great.” Simon says. Alec sighs.

“I’ll take you to him, I have clearance.” He says, and Simon ducks under the crime scene tape and follows Alec into the building.

It’s strange, to walk through the hallway and down to the basement while it’s got cops running up and down and is being marked down. Simon wonders how much of his stuff he’ll get back, and how many of the tenants knew about this whole thing. Alec leads him into a small room off the side of the basement, where Jace is standing, talking to some other agents.

Jace’s hair is slicked back, his composure is perfect, and he looks every inch the FBI agent he apparently really is, kitted out in his bulletproof vest with his gun in his hand as he gestures with the other at some point on a map. Simon wants to cling to him and never let go, and he also wants to shatter a vase over Jace’s head or something equally dramatic.

“Jace.” Alec calls out, and Jace looks over and catches sight of Simon. His expression falls immediately, and he looks so much like _Jonathan_ that it’s easy to forget for a second that everything about them was a lie.

But it’s not so easy to tune out the agents surrounding them, Jace’s brother lurking in the background, and the way it his _apartment building_ being torn apart. It’s not easy to forget that Simon’s been in the dark from the second he met Jace.

“Everyone out.” Alec says suddenly, and Simon glances behind him as all the agents stop, stare at each other, and then unquestioningly follow Alec, authority in the slope of his shoulders. He nods at Jace, and Simon sees it now, how they’re alike despite not being _actually_ related. It’s in the way they hold themselves, like they’re poised to fight the world.

“So.” Simon says bitterly into the ensuing silence, because he’s never been good with anything quiet. “You needed my master keys.”

“We’d been trailing Starkweather for weeks.” Jace blurts out, his eyes trailed on a spot to the left of Simon. “We knew he was in on Morgenstern’s mafia ring, but something tipped him off and he decided to make a run for it.”

“So he found someone willing to quickly and quietly take over a lease, which just so happened to be me.” Simon guesses, crossing his arms.

“Yeah.” Jace says, finally meeting Simon’s gaze. His eyes are as brilliant as always, the blue-brown gaze so sharp it feels like everything else falls away. “You – I didn’t know you would be the one with the keys until I met you.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t, _Jonathan_.” Simon laughs mockingly. “So, what, you thought ‘hey, this’ll be easier now, this new guy’s so desperately attracted to me that all I have to do is sleep with him and I’ll have constant access to the master keys’?” Jace’s face crumples.

“ _No_.” He says, his voice low. “I just – didn’t know how to deal with you.”

“Was any of it real?”  Simon asks, uncrossing his arms and gesturing around them. Jace looks away, and that’s all he needs to know.

“Fine.” Simon bites out. “Fine.” He spins on his heel and walks out, hoping against all hope that Jace will follow him, or call after him.

He doesn’t, and Simon’s scrubbing furiously at his eyes by the time he leaves his former apartment building.

.

_week twelve_

Simon can’t bring himself to leave his cocoon of blankets to even _see_ Izzy every time she comes over to Clary’s. One, because she and Clary remind him of the relationship he doesn’t have anymore, and two, because everything about her reminds him that she’s a Lightwood, just like Jace and  - well. It _hurts_ , to think about anything related to Jace.

Simon’s gotten all his stuff from his apartment back from the police department, and he knows he should be thankful that _he_ isn’t under suspicion. He hears through Clary that it’s mostly because of Jace vouching for him, but he can’t bring himself to be grateful when he remembers why Jace can vouch for his movements with such certainty.

The worst part isn’t the knowledge that he’s been used and tossed aside – the worst part is that he still _loves_ Jace in a way he’s never been able to feel about anyone in his life so far. Jace carved out a space in Simon’s life that’s now empty and aching and Simon doesn’t think it’ll ever heal.  What is he supposed to do about that? How can he pick up his life and move on after living a lie for long enough that it feels like nothing but the truth?

.

_week thirteen_

“You look awful.” Raphael says to him on his first day at work, pausing at the door to Simon’s office and arching an eyebrow. Simon picks at his the cuff of his shirt.

“I don’t really care.” He says dully. “I _feel_ awful.”

“Still?” Raphael asks, carefully letting himself into the room and sitting down across from Simon’s desk. “You know you can take as much time as you need before you come back to work, right?” It’s times like these that Simon’s reminded of exactly _why_ everyone followed Raphael when he overthrew Camille.

“I know.” Simon smiles faintly. “But I really need to get these accounts settled before the end of the month, so if I don’t start now I’ll miss the deadline.” Raphael is silent as he slides a file folder across to Simon and studies him as Simon flips through it idly.

“How did you feel when your first met Ragnor?” He bursts out when he can’t stand the silence any longer. Raphael narrows his eyes and Simon’s afraid he’s going to be slowly murdered, but Raphael responds.

“He was older than me.” Raphael says slowly. “And he was very grumpy when I tried to buy a book from him. But he looked at me – well. Like he wanted to give it a chance. And that was all we ever expected from each other, a chance.”

“What if you only ever get one chance in your life? What if that was my _one_ big chance, and now it’s over?” Simon moans, burying his head in his hands.

“I highly doubt that.” Raphael says, looking offended at the very idea, and it’s amusing enough that Simon smiles, and the other man looks immensely pleased. “You’re welcome to go to Ragnor’s bookstore if you want someone to curse Jace out with, by the way.”

“Aw, your boyfriend cares!” Simon grins.

“No, he’s just absurdly grumpy.” Raphael mutters. “He’s awful.”  
“Yeah, because _you’re_ a ray of sunshine.” Simon rolls his eyes.

.

“I brought food.” Izzy says as she lets herself into the spare room he’s been staying in. It’s Saturday, and he’s moping in bed watching reruns of Spiderman.

“Uh…” Simon trails off, unsure of how to explain that he’s _tried_ the food that Izzy leaves in Clary’s fridge, and he’s never regretted putting anything in his mouth more.

“I didn’t make it.” Izzy rolls her eyes. “Honestly, everyone’s so dramatic about that. My cooking isn’t that bad.”

“That’s because Clary’s a good girlfriend and she eats all your food.” Simon says moodily, prodding at the bacon on the plate before eating some.

“Simon.” Izzy says sympathetically. Simon shakes his head.

“Is this the part where you talk to me about how great Jace really is and he didn’t _mean_ to fuck with my heart?” He scoffs.

“No, this is the part where I tell you that he needs a chance to explain himself.” Izzy says gently. “He’s been awful these past few weeks, barely getting out of bed.”

“Great.” Simon says. “Don’t care, though.”

“Simon, he _misses_ you.”

“He _lied_ to me, Izzy!” Simon explodes. “I didn’t even know his real _name_!”

“He was more honest with you than anyone else.” Izzy says quietly. “He’s never told anyone about his father, and he’s certainly never been so invested in someone he started a relationship with them while undercover.” Something about the tone of her voice brings Simon up short.

“What?”

“It was a complete breach of protocol.” Izzy shakes her head. “Alec warned him at their weekly rendezvous at the theater that he’d get taken off the undercover force if he continued that. It’s too messy,” she says, leaning back and closing her eyes, “to get involved sexually while you’re on a mission. It compromises the objective, and it’s not allowed.”

“But Jace…” Simon trails off, and Izzy opens her eyes and looks straight at him.  
“Jace said he didn’t care. He told Alec that this was going to be his last undercover op, and he put in a request to transfer back to being a detective, and he put it in for Luke’s precinct. Alec was furious, but Jace was set on his decision.”

“Are you telling me Jace isn’t FBI anymore?” Simon says dazedly.

“Come on, Simon, you can’t tell me you really though the FBI would let someone _sleep_ with a civilian while undercover?” Izzy asks incredulously.

“I had the master keys.” Simon points out.

“And all Jace had to do was steal them.” Izzy responds. “Those were his direct orders, and he disobeyed them. There were a hundred different ways he could have done the op, and none of them involved a relationship with you.”

“Oh my God.” Simon says softly, staring at the floor.

.

_week fourteen_

“Magnus, this is why I didn’t want to rent an apartment from you.” Simon says, storming into the living room area. “Why is there a lingerie closet in the guest bedroom?” Magnus cocks his head to the side, looking like a flamboyant peacock with his deep blue-green shirt and shining necklaces.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s not really my color.” Simon rolls his eyes. “I need the space, come on, Magnus.”

“Oh, very _well_ , I’ll move it.” Magnus sighs dramatically. “I suppose you aren’t paying the rent for nothing.”

There’s a loud bang from the open doorway, and Simon and Magnus peer over the moving boxes in the living room to see Alec Lightwood massaging his forehead and looking thoroughly pissed off.

“Why the _fuck_ is there this  - “ Alec abruptly cuts himself off when he catches sight of Magnus, and Simon’s eyes widen as Alec’s cheeks flush pink.

“Well _hello_.” Magnus purrs. “And who might you be?” Simon slowly backs away as Alec walks closer to Magnus, smiling and ducking his head.

“Uh, I’m. Um. Alec. I’m Alec.”

“I’m Magnus Bane.” Magnus says, a soft look Simon’s never seen before crossing his face as he takes in Alec’s stammering.

“And I’m gonna go, I guess.” Simon mock-whispers as the two men continue to stare at each other. Magnus and Alec both turn to him, Magnus glaring and Alec’s happy expression falling away.

“I actually came here to talk to you, as much as I hate it.” He grimaces, and Simon rolls his eyes. “Fix Jace.”

“I’m sorry?” Simon asks incredulously.

“He’s been absolutely useless since you dumped him!” Alec exclaims. “He won’t even go see you because he’s convinced you hate him and won’t be within ten feet of him.”  

“Uh, did you forget that we weren’t _actually_ dating because he was _undercover_?”

“You don’t still _believe_ that.” Alec says, his face screwing up into such disgust that Simon has to admit to himself that yeah, he doesn’t really believe it. Not truly, after what Izzy told him.

“I just – he didn’t _say_ anything, that day I found out.” Simon says slowly. “He didn’t even try to fix it.”

“Jace isn’t exactly known for being in tune with his feelings.” Alec scoffs. 

“If I may,” Magnus interjects, looking at Simon somberly, “you can’t expect everyone to always be able to eloquently express themselves. You grow and you learn together.” Alec glances at Magnus quickly, his expression softening at Magnus’ words.

“So what do I do?” Simon asks, and Magnus grins.

“I have an idea.”

.

 

_week fifteen_

“Fuck, this was a _bad_ idea.” Simon mutters to himself, taking a deep breath as he smooths down his button-down.

“Talking to yourself? Early sign of insanity.” Magnus says with a flourish, opening his apartment door.

“ _Jesus,_ how did you hear me?” Simon asks.

“Never mind that, I’m pleased to see you’re wearing what I told you to.” Magnus responds, sweeping his eyes over Simon approvingly. “Jace is here. You’re ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Simon says fidgeting. Magnus smiles sadly.

“You miss him?”

Simon doesn’t answer, but he crosses his arms and looks away. How can he admit that Jace was one of the best things to happen to him, and he _aches_ for him? How can he admit that despite the agony of being tossed aside like that, he still remembers Jace’s eyes, always so soft and admiring every time he looked at Simon, every time they kissed?

“Yeah.” Simon says lowly. “I really do.” Magnus nods, turning and gesturing for Simon to follow. They walk past all of Magnus’ guests. He sees Clary and Izzy flash him a thumbs-up Raphael nod his way. Even Alec squeezes his shoulder as Magnus leads Simon out to the balcony.

Through the sliding door Simon can see Jace leaning against the railing, his back to the party as he looks out over the skyline. He turns when Magnus slides the door open.

“Magnus, why – Simon?” Jace says, his face unreadable, and Simon swallows hard as he comes face to face with the man of his dreams, once again. He feels like a starving man as he drinks in every small thing, from the one lock of hair hanging in Jace’s eyes to the way Jace’s knuckles are gripping the railing.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Magnus says, and quietly retreats. They stare at each other, the silence heavy.

“Simon.” Jace says again, his voice quieter and more miserable, and Simon looks away, blinking furiously.

“Izzy told me you’re with NYPD now.” Simons says instead.

“Yeah.” It comes out as a bare whisper, and Simon glances back to see Jace smiling faintly, his eyes alive as he looks at Simon.

“Why are you smiling?” Simon asks, nonplussed, forgetting for a moment all the unspoken things between them.

“Because you’re here.” Jace says, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, yeah.” Simon shifts. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

“Anywhere else than Magnus’ party?”

“Than with you.” Simon says slowly, and Jace looks up, his grin blinding now as he meets Simon’s gaze. “Stop smiling, I’m still angry with you!” Jace laughs, loud and clear, his hands reaching out to tentatively grasp Simon’s waist. Simon goes willingly, melting into Jace even as he threatens “I’m serious, Jace! No more lies!”

“No more lies?” Jace asks, arching an eyebrow. “Then I’m sorry to have to break it to you, but…I don’t like _Harry Potter_.”

“ _What_? That’s impossible.” Simon says dismissively.

“No, you’re right, I love the series.” Jace shakes his head, the smile disappearing as he tightens his grip. “And – I really do love you. I didn’t want to lie to you, and it was selfish of me to date you while I was undercover. I was just too…” He trails off, biting his lip and looking up, exhaling hard. “God, this is going to sound so stupid! I was too impatient.” He laughs, looking at Simon. “I didn’t think my type would be you, but it was. And I didn’t even think about the consequences, just blustered through it, and suddenly I was so in love I couldn’t go back.”

“That’s understandable, I’m everyone’s type.” Simon preens.

“ _I’m_ everyone’s type.” Jace says, giving Simon a look. Simon grins.

“I just wish you’d told me all that day when I found out.” He confesses, and Jace rolls his eyes.  
“Do you know how nervous you make me?” He asks quietly. “I’m always afraid I’m going to say the wrong thing and lose you.”

“Not saying anything will also guarantee you lose me.” Simon says seriously, cupping Jace’s cheek and smoothing a thumb across his skin. “I promise I’m always going to be here to listen, to _whatever_ you have to say.”

“Yeah?” Jace asks, his eyes bright.

“Yeah.” Simon exhales, closing the distance between them and pressing their lips together. It’s soft and sweet, nothing more than the drag of their lips. Jace’s stubble is familiar under his fingertips, his hair brushing Simon’s jaw as it falls loose. Jace’s hands are gripping Simon’s waist, his fingers pressing just under the hem of his shirt and dragging across his bare skin. Simon presses forward, trying to close the distance between them, trying to memorize the feel of their bodies interwtwined together.

“Fuck.” Jace gasps out, breaking the kiss and looking floored. “Fuck, I won’t lie to you. Never again. You have all of me.” Simon doesn’t say anything, just rests their foreheads together and closes his eyes, content to be wrapped around Jace.

.

_week sixteen_

Jace has an apartment ten minutes from Simon’s, and this time it’s furnished. This time, it’s _Jace_ living there, Jace the NYPD detective.  Jace has three adopted siblings and he was raised by Valentine Morgenstern. He likes cats, leather jackets, fingerless gloves, and playing the piano. His apartment is filled with posters for obscure bands no one’s heard of, and he has an espresso machine he doesn’t know how to work but he stubbornly refuses to get rid of.  He’s arrogant, charming, attractive, and talented at too many things. He’s a bit of a jackass, and knows it.

Jace Lightwood had an awful childhood. He’s fiercely loyal to his brothers and sister, and especially to Alec, who’s been his partner in crime since the day he was adopted. He has a boyfriend who he’s _insanely_ in love with, and who he trusts with his life. He has tattoos for all the people and places he deems important. He’s learning to let people in, learning to try his hand at being the man he thinks Simon deserves.

He kisses like he’ll never get enough of Simon. He’s unapologetically romantic and unabashedly affectionate. He gives Simon his heart and never looks back.

And every time Simon looks at Jace, takes in his smirk and his raised eyebrow, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and his hands automatically reach to anchor Simon to him, Simon knows that he won’t look back either.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come prompt me on [ tumblr ](http://eversall.tumblr.com/)!!


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